Ultimately, our bodies betray us.
Our muscles, bones, organs and skin are physical. And like all material things, they will ultimately break down. This we know for sure, although we don’t like it.
Thankfully, and hopefully, this dissolution happens slowly over many years. When that happens, we have time to adjust to the inevitable changes that occur. But this is not always the case, and we may find ourselves like cars that break down on a long road trip — on the side of the road, calling for a tow — with no idea when we’ll back on the highway or how much it will cost! Of course, when it’s a car, we can always rent another one while ours is being fixed. We haven’t figured out how to do that with our bodies.
Just like automobiles, when we do take care of ourselves and make sure we are well maintained, breakdowns may be less likely. But they still occur, and we must figure out how to make the best of what we have. This is easier said than done.
After many years of jogging, I developed a serious tendon problem in my left foot that could only be repaired with major surgery. I was in a cast for two months, and sidelined for a year. After months of physical therapy and hard work, I was able to become active once again. But my running days were over. I still miss those jogs around Green Lake. And, despite the miracles of modern orthopedic surgery, I still have periodic pain and limitation.
Accidents, illness, chronic disease (diabetes, heart disease, asthma, etc.) and muscular skeletal problems can occur to any of us, at any time, even when we’re young. The real question is, how do we handle these “mechanical” problems when they do occur? How do we cope with them?
Naturally, we hope that modern medicine will have a pill, potion or a fix for our particular problem. And frequently, they do. But sadly, our modern technology doesn’t offer a fix for everything. Some problems we must learn to live with, even if we don’t want to.
The search for a remedy may span many months or even years — trips to different doctors and alternative health care providers. Sometimes we do find some help, and sometimes not. But at some point, we must accept that which we cannot change. This is where we have to apply our wisdom, which resides in all of us and isn’t subject to physical decline. Indeed, it deepens with the march of time. It grows within us as we encounter and respond to challenges and hardship in our lives.
My elderly mother lived alone in Florida and had chronic, severe back pain from arthritis. She gave up on pain pills, which made her loopy. “I decided to bake cookies,” she once shared with me. “I stood in the kitchen for five minutes making batter, and when the pain got severe, I lay down for 15 minutes. So, I would stand for five minutes, rest for 15 minutes — and guess what, after a time, I was eating chocolate chip cookies!”
We have all seen cancer survivors on Susan Komen walks with a spring to their step as they raise money to cure breast cancer. Their mission to do good overcomes their fatigue and fear.
In many instances we cannot rid ourselves of infirmity. But we can harness our own wisdom to accept, in a more neutral way, what we cannot change. We can consider it a challenge to ask ourselves what we can do, rather than focus on what we can’t.
Paul Schoenfeld is a clinical psychologist at The Everett Clinic. His Family Talk blog can be found at www.everettclinic.com/health-wellness-library.html.
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